


I wish you were here.

by mothdotjpeg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, M/M, One Shot, Post s15 ep18, but like before the finale, good ik vent fic, i have seen three episodes of spn okay, idk how to tag, my comeback is a destiel fic HDHDHS i'm sorry, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothdotjpeg/pseuds/mothdotjpeg
Summary: "I love you too." Gulping the taste of peppermint down his throat and looking away from the ceiling of the bathroom to the dirty mat below him knees. "For the record." Hell if he knew what the hell he was doing or who the fuck actually heard him right now.|| Dean hasn't accepted Cas's "death" yet. He prays, for whatever it's worth. ||
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 19





	I wish you were here.

**Author's Note:**

> Look okay I haven't posted in awhile and I'm here with a vent spn fic... I'm sorry please forgive me

"I love you too." Gulping the taste of peppermint down his throat and looking away from the ceiling of the bathroom to the dirty mat below him knees. "For the record." Hell if he knew what the hell he was doing or who the fuck actually heard him right now. 

It was 2 am, last time he checked, his shitty motel room felt lonely. So fucking lonely. Sam had turned in early, attempting to get Dean to do the same but to no avail. He gave him space. Dean wanted nothing more than to not have space. They were trying to go back to usual, back to their hunts and quests. Make some resemblance of normal, their normal. But it all felt dull without...

"Fuck this," He groaned as he helped himself off his kneeling position and up to his feet. "I'm too old for that shit anymore, Cas. Can't go kneeling and praying for you, my knees'll give out." The laugh was in stomach as he looked up from the sink to the small mirror on the medicine cabinet. He resisted opening it to see whatever left over Advil lived inside, he couldn't dull the pain out. His liver can't give our get either. 

"Fuck," He rubbed his eyes as he averted his gaze from the wreck facing him in the mirror. Blue bags under his eyes, making him look tired. Hell was he tired. The bags, the veins in his eyes, he looked like he'd been in one hell of a fight. He could go for that shit right now, he shakes his head to ignore that thought. Apart of him thinks he'll take a shower, scrub his skin off and fix his greasy hair and shave his drunk beard- but he couldn't find the motivation. The feeling of his three day old jeans felt like the more comforting thing in world, he needed comfort. 

"You dumb bastard." He muttered and looked back up at himself, hands grinning the sink until his knuckles were white and his arms were shaking slightly. It was numb. It had felt so numb for awhile. He had fallen apart, picked himself up, and moved on. Sam hadn't said anything, not of importance. They barely discussed this, at most they discussed were they would stop for lunch. 

_"You can't run from it."_ Sam had said once. Dean had turned the radio up louder and kept his eyes on the road. He was okay being numb. He could survivor being numb. 

Some may argue that being numb isn't not being able to close your eyes or sleep anymore. But no one argued if no one knew. The tiredness was almost unbearable, drinking yourself to sleep didn't lead to good rest. He just wanted to rest. But those words, those eyes, the feeling in his gut. 

So instead, motel bathroom. Prayers, muttering to the mirror. Trying to get the universe to just listen, but hell if it had ever listened before.

"Cas," He felt desperate as he spoke. that feeling in his gut making him feel faint. Maybe that was the tiredness too. His voice was barely more than a whisper as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, barely more than a mutter so he didn't feel stupid. It still felt stupid. "Buddy. I love you too. And fuck, fuck man I never told you that? How unfair is the world? That I couldn't even tell you? Goddamn." He sniffled, actually. Looking up at the ceiling and blinking to get rid of the tears, so much for being numb. His hands were clutched together like he was desperately praying, maybe he was. After the tears were at bay for a moment, his gazed rested on his intertwined fingers. "That's not the point, is it?" He had been kicking himself, over and over. Nonstop in his head no matter how hard he tried. "But... You knew that. Not exactly the oblivious type, were ya?" He caught his words and squeezed his eyes shut. "-are you. You aren't a were yet." Not yet. He wasn't gone. Not forever. He was still out there, Dean just couldn't have him. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

"The point is: I can't survive without you and yet I think I'm gonna have to." He didn't even bother as a year rolled down his cheek, voice still so hushed he wondered if anything out there could hear him. Part of him hoped not, the other part wanted to be heard. To be seen in his misery so someone could save him. "I'm gonna have to exist without you here." He hadn't said that yet. Not verbally, not to himself. Especially not to the universe. "And hell, Cas. I'm good at existing with you. I'd be so good at existing with you. You know that! And I just... I can't." Why the fuck were things the way they were? "I can't worry about you, or protect you, or even fucking love you. There's nothing left of you here. Just memories. Just these memories, Cas. The good ones. The ones that made me love you and think about you constantly. God. What the fuck am I gonna do?" This was too much to block out and lock away. Dean was struggling to breathe because he was realizing this. The places Cas wouldn't go, the things he wouldn't learn, the things Dean wouldn't be able to see him witness or not understand. Cas wasn't there. And Dean would never get to kiss him or touch him or tell him that he fucking loves him. 

"Dean?" The knock at the door made Dean nearly fall off the tub. Running his face from tears and swallowing the snot in his throat. 

"Yeah?" Gruff and he's sure Sam could tell he had been crying, but he hoped he wouldn't mention it.

"How long?" The sleep in his voice was apartment, the annoyance in it as well. Sam was here. Real and alive and not trapped in a place Dean couldn't save him from. For now, this could be fine. He opened the door and met his brother's gaze, tired and empty until his eyes took in the wrecked man in front of him. 

"Dean?" He stepped out of the way and avoided Sam's eyes. "Dean!" Not so tired anymore, Dean grumbled and fell onto his bed.

"What?" Sam watched him, trying to get his eyes to tell what was wrong, although Dean was sure he already knew. 

"Are you okay?" That made Dean laugh before shoving his face into a pillow. 

"Yeah, sure." He stated at the wake. realizing he couldn't close his eyes again. 

"Uhuh, that's a bold faced lie." Dean groaned but didn't move.

"Go back to bed, Sam." And the bathroom door clicked close with a sigh. He wanted a moment before mumbling into his pillow, "I wish you were here, Cas." Then it was quiet. For a moment, silent and lonely moment. 

"Me too, Dean." 


End file.
